Butterfly on the Wall
by RideOnShootingStar
Summary: {POV of Sarada} Sarada lives a boring, sheltered life with her mother and aches over the vague presence of her father. Nearly a teenager, she longs to know more about the past of her parents and the relationships amongst them. After discovering a power that resides within her, Sarada is confined to secrecy and delves into a world that is not her own.
1. One

Fingers running across the edge of the page. Flip.

There's nothing I don't know in any of these books. Reading them is boring. No more boring than hanging out with my mother, though.

Flip.

It's interesting that I have read all about everyone else's parents, but never my own.

I set the book down. It's still only midday; there's no class today, it's the weekend again. Everyone is out and about having fun, but I just don't feel like joining them. Maybe I'll just go grab a crepe and go for a walk.

"Hey, Sarada, where are you off to?" Mom greets cheerfully, pulling out a tray of some of her terrible cookies from the oven. She likes to bake a lot, and the house is always immaculately clean. She's got some issues. Not like it doesn't run in the family, or anything.

"Out," I slip on my sandals and mom follows me near the door, leaning on the wall. I roll my eyes at the presence of her behind me. "What, mom?"

"Are you okay? I know it's been hard for you lately," She is anxiously twiddling her fingers through her cherry colored hair.

"'Everything is okay, everything is fine, it always has been and nothing's changing.' I know." I repeat what she tells me, mocking her slightly by speaking monotonous. I turn to see her purse her thin, pink lips together. "I'm just going out, mom. Please don't worry about me."

I leave. I know she's going to stand there for a few minutes, wondering about what is going on with me; is it puberty? Is training affecting her? Is she depressed? Am I doing something wrong? Maybe a bit of everything else, but not the latter; I know she is doing her best on her own, and mom's always done everything by the book. She's a great mother, more than anyone could ever wish for. In fact, she is such a great mother, that it almost fills the void where my dad would fit in… but it doesn't.

Mom is such a strong woman. I don't know why she is with someone like my dad, who, like always, has never been around. We should leave him behind, but her devotion is unwavering. She wears the Uchiha crest always, and keeps his photo near her bedside. She speaks about him as if he is always near. How I wish I could be a fly on the wall, to discover why she feels such a way.

The warm, summer wind gusts gently past me. I hear a creak a few feet away behind me, halting my pace… Our storage room is unlocked, door rasping slightly; highly unusual, considering this door is locked two or three times over. I realize that I hadn't ever been in this room unsupervised before, and not for more than a moment or two at a time.

I decide to be nosy. I think of an excuse incase mom comes in, that a cat had gotten in and I was trying to find it. Stepping into the dark, restricted room, I'm bombarded by cobwebs and trip over a book, awry from the large bookshelf. I steady myself and hold my breath, so as not to sneeze or make noise to clue mom off.

I come to dad's desk, excessively coated with layers of dust. A frame sat with a wrinkled photo of young mom, dad and our Hokage, with their sensei Kakashi-san. I note that mom looks quite desperate with her expression towards dad, while he remains impassive – not much has changed there. I also note that I'm fortunate that I didn't inherit her forehead.

Feeling extra risky with this chance to be in this room that dad stores his most intimate possesses, I stealthily open the first drawer in his desk; the drawer reveals a lot of….junk. Ink pens, a few scrolls, this really neat looking old shuriken. I pick it up to examine it further when I hear footsteps promptly increase towards the door.

"Sarada?" It's mom, stepping into the room. She squints her eyes from the sudden obscurity of the room, the lack of natural light. I shut the drawer with my knee as fast as I could and hide the shuriken in my back pocket. "What are you doing in here?"

"I was walking by when I thought I noticed a cat run in, and I came in to find it," I shrug and walk past her, stepping into the sunlight. "I guess it isn't in here, though. You might want to lock that door a bit better. Anyways, see you later, mom."

She narrowed her eyes at me, as if she knew better to trust my excuse, but accepted it anyways and shut the door behind me as I hurried away.

* * *

"They really don't make them like this anymore," I wondered aloud, inspecting the timeworn weapon better with assistance from the sun. "I wonder if dad used this. Or if it was used by another Uchiha…" I didn't know about any other Uchiha, except for dad. Mom changed the subject whenever I would pry, or beg for a family tree. Dad was never around to ask.

Getting to the point of my favorite landscape, I sat down and rested my back against the trunk of the old tree and held the shuriken high above my head, just over the view of the city of Konoha before me. I was just outside the city, in a hilly area that was occupied with just a singular tree. It was a place I came often to relax, think, read, and just be away… so it was a place I came to often.

I put my finger in the shuriken's hole and twirled it around, watching the damaged edges as they spun, noticing each scuff and nick. Based off of these incisions, and the age, I was almost certain that this had been a weapon used by either mom or dad themselves, probably when they were my age or even younger. Maybe it was from a generation before them. Why keep it, though? Shuriken are so dispensable. I should have grabbed a notepad or a scroll from dad's desk. At least I could have learnt something more useful to me than this.

Sighing, I take off my glasses and lie on my back, shaded in the tree's leaves and clutch the shuriken to my chest. It had been about seven years now since I last saw dad. I'm a Genin now, and he didn't even show up at my graduation. He hadn't been there for anything. I wouldn't even know his face if it weren't for the few stray photos of him mounted around the house, with him and mom and I when I was newborn.

Why have a wife if you weren't going to be there for her? Why start a family when you aren't going to raise it? Did he even want me to begin with? Maybe he had another family he liked more… These were the thoughts I tried to push out of my head so often, it made me sick, especially seeing so many others my age with intact families. I don't even think he would recognize me, if he met me. But despite all of this, I hope when he does, that he's proud.

I feel my eyes start to sting, so I close them for relief. The shuriken I clutch close feels warm, so I pretend that it's warm from the hand of my father holding it with me, and I drift off to sleep… But before I can fully grasp sleep, I hear a voice from behind the tree. The shock jolts me awake. Another female voice responds, both familiar and unfamiliar.

I realize then that I can't speak. I try to jump to my feet, and realize my perception is completely off; the grass is larger than I am myself! I start to panic, and a gush of wind surrounds me, followed by a distinct sensation from my upper back, unlike anything I had felt before – it was unhuman. I can't comprehend what is going on, but I know that something has changed, and I myself was human no longer.

The gusting posterior to me continues – my vision is thrown from the giant grass to above, and I come to the realization that I'm being lifted higher by this windy sensation, as if I was flying. The voices linger nearby. I try to manipulate the air, to take me towards these voices, to try to get their attention for help or to see who had used this terrible genjutsu on me. I move in the direction towards the sound, as the soundwaves echo visibly across my peripherals. Whatever's going on needs to end _now_.

"I'm not waiting around anymore," He says, his impatience clear. "We've been here for an hour. I have other things I could be doing. He's a joke."

"If we don't do this, we're going to be in trouble. Please, just wait a bit longer. This is something the three of us have to do, and as a team, it requires patience…" She begs, though her tenor is mousy and quiet.

"I don't need teamwork to be a great Shinobi. A great Shinobi doesn't have to deal with idiots, either," His anger persisted. Finally, reaching the other side of the tree, I grasp onto the trunk and peer onto those who had cast this spell on me, but nearly faint after catching a glimpse.

"Sasuke…" Sakura set down her homemade salad on her blanket and stood as if to grab his hand to keep him from leaving, although she froze before she came to close. "Naruto always shows up. Can't you stay with me, and wait, just for twenty more minutes? I packed you some lunch…" She gestures shyly towards a small bento, next to her lunch. Sasuke turns, his eyes meeting hers. Her body trembles slightly as a shiver runs down her spine from the electricity of their silent connection.

He doesn't respond as he clenches his fists and surrenders to the blanket, grabbing the bento. Sakura sheepishly joins him. They eat in silence.

My own limbs are shaking. My mother, my father, before me, younger than I.


	2. Two

Author's Note: Chapters will start to become more interesting as Sarada's powers are discovered in depth. I keep my ideas fresh, don't worry ;)

* * *

At this point, I am self-aware enough to know that I'm dreaming, or deeply engulfed into genjutsu. And, upon further examination, I am an insect on this tree, watching a moment from the past that include my mother and father.

They sat and ate, shared no thoughts, said no words; almost what I imagine dinner would be like if dad ever came home.

Suddenly, the tree stifles a vibration from an impact. I can feel it, traveling up my thin, twig-like limbs. I leap, and my wings flap instinctively, carrying me high into the air where I notice our Hokage in his preteen years, running in our direction, still off in the distance.

I discern that he is loud, obnoxious, sloppy. He tramples en route, clumsy and laughing; a shuriken is lodged into the tree between Sakura and Sasuke, inches away from their heads.

"I almost got you guys," He snickers, panting as he reaches the tree. I flutter near to catch every detail I can. I had imagined Naruto was foolish at my age, but not even close to this annoying. I could see my unimpressed expression mirror on my parents' faces below.

"You're late," They responded in sync. Sasuke plucked the shuriken from the tree, and pretended to toss it at Naruto; he covered his head and dodged, sheepishly peeking up, realizing his farce. Sasuke pocketed the weapon and walked away solitarily. " _Idiot_. Let's go."

I flapped these paper-like wings as fast as I could, chasing after my father. As I drift by Sakura, I hear her mention "Ah, what a beautiful butterfly."

I know then that I am not invisible. I realize then, any moves I make here may have repercussions.

" _Sarada_?"

What? Who's calling me? This was a voice that didn't belong to the others around me…. Who were quickly fading into encompassing shadows. I felt as if my very being was being stretched and pulled in every direction. This voice rang in my ears, repeating constantly.

"I guess it's time for some mouth to mouth."

My eyes snap open. They're met by Boruto, inches away from my face.

My heart palpitates. Boruto jumps to his feet with excitement.

"Sarada!? You awoke the Sharingan!?"

" _What_? No," I sit up and rub my sore, stinging eyes and quickly feel around for my glasses. After I put them on, my headache begins to dissipate. If Boruto discovered me sleeping, perhaps this was just some sort of lucid dream… "Why – What.. .what are you doing here?" I can't help but stutter in his presence. I'm going to assume it's the nerves from the recent out-of-body experience.

"You think you're the only one that likes to escape the city and hide from their family? Get real," He scoffs, plunking himself on the grass beside me. He stares at me, hesitant. I scramble to sit cross legged, picking grass out from my hair. "Hey, let me see that shuriken!" He gestures to the small weapon near my knee, diminishing our awkward silence.

"Sure, whatever," I flick it towards him. I can pull off being cool and complacent. Boruto grabs it and examines it with great curiosity. I can't help but get lost in his inquisitive azure eyes… Great, I can feel myself blushing. I shake it off. "I think it belonged to your dad."

"Huh, looks ancient enough to be. How do you figure that?"

Ugh, I shouldn't have let that slip.

"I don't know," I'm unsure if I should take the risk and try to explain it to Boruto, or if I should just keep this to myself. He looks to me, inquiring. I decide to evade complete honesty, so as to not sound entirely insane. "I found it in my dad's desk, near a photo of our parents. I figured it was one of theirs."

"Sneaky," Boruto raises an eyebrow towards me, and then whips the shuriken at the tree behind him, indenting it a few centimeters into the bark. "Hey, not bad." He clears his voice, his face reddening. "Anyways, my dad is having a dinner tonight; he has the evening off of work. Your mom was already invited; do you want to come by too? It will make it way less lame."

I stand and pluck the metal object from the tree, and I can't help but notice a notch very similar to it, albeit an inch deeper, close by. I run my fingers over the pit, and contemplate ways that this vision could have been accurate. I turn to him and nod curtly, joining him in a race back to the Konoha.

* * *

"Oh, hey Sarada, I'm glad you can join us," The Seventh Hokage shakes my hand vigorously upon greeting me. "Your mom isn't here yet; I think she was called for an emergency consultation at the hospital. But I know she will be soon! Come in!" He ushers me into their large home, decorated excessively with streamers and balloons. I glance at Boruto with furrowed brows, feeling confused and out of place.

"His birthday," he mouths to me, for his words would be inaudible with all of the music, chatter and noise through the house.

"Oh no, I didn't know," I cup my hands to my mouth, embarrassed to be present without a gift. Boruto shrugs. Knowing him, he didn't get his father anything either.

Naruto was a man of great responsibility; a noble Shinobi; a loving husband; a father… though, like my own, was too busy in his own endeavors to dote on his kids. He tries, I will give him that, but it isn't enough for Boruto, who craves his attention more than anyone and receives it the least.

I don't think Boruto knows how lucky he is, that he even gets to eat a meal at the table with him.

"Since you've been rather rebellious lately," Boruto grins at me, making me slightly uncomfortable but a whole lot intrigued. "Wanna go snoop around?"

"Snoop around where?" A small, indigo-haired girl pops between us, making Boruto halt. He turns to her slowly, narrowing his eyes. I could feel the sibling tension resonating.

"Himawari. Go."

"Sarada-chan is my friend, too," Himawari clings to me. My body stiffens in response. Boruto put his arms on his hips and growled, but Himawari just smiled up towards me. It's evident she is used to getting her way.

"Play nice kids," Shikamaru waltzes by and nudges Boruto in the head on his way to the washroom a hall over. He sighs, exasperated.

"Himawari, seriously, you can't say anything. Don't tattle, be quiet. We're going into the attic and we're keeping the lights off." I can feel Himawari shift beside me. "If you can't handle that, then go away."

"I'll be just fine," She says stoutly, but I can sense her uncertainty. Boruto and I exchange helpless expressions, and head towards the attic with stealth.

"You do know that Mama wouldn't like us up here," Himawari warns again, this time at the ceiling on top of her brother's shoulders reaching for the small handle to tug down and reveal the hidden attic.

"You do know that I really don't care," Boruto groans impatiently. "Just pull the door down so we can get in, quick." The door pulled down quickly with a moan. The three of us froze still. "Himawari, why don't you keep lookout?"

"I could do that," She squeaks, peering up into the dusty darkness above with a shudder.

"Okay, let's go," Boruto grabs my hand and drags me up the creaky stairs, into their enormous attic, full of all sorts of incredible looking heirlooms and boxes, slightly illuminated from the light creeping up from the stairs below. "And I'll close this!" He reached down and retracted the stairs, and we were surrounded by blackness.

"Now what?"

He brought his hands together, using his chakra to create a brilliant ball of light. Light cascaded on the walls, revealing…. Mostly boxes, and a few hangers full of old outfits, and a ton of junk. I'm not entirely impressed.

"There's a box of scrolls here," I point out, but he's not interested. He's dashing around, probably looking for some sort of weaponry…

"Whoooaaaa," I turn around and hurry to the box he's rooting through, only to discover it's full of women scantily dressed; some wearing no clothing at all.

"Oh my God." I can't repress the reflex to punch him in the back of the head. He chuckles dumbly. Men are ridiculous. I can hardly picture the Hokage possessing this kind of filth… But then again, according to my vision prior, I don't think Naruto is much like I figured he would be.

"What's this?" A large tapestry hung on the wall in tan textile with a painted, red Uzumaki crest on it. It was old, it was worn, and it was covered in the scent of dirt and moths. I ran my fingers along it, fingertips tracing every groove, rough and soft. I pondered of Boruto's grandparents, and wondered if it was made for them to hang in their home. Whatever happened to them, anyways?

Suddenly, I felt my innermost being stretched and heaved from my solid body. I went crashing to my knees, and reopened my eyes to a nursery before me. A bright yellow room, a solid wood crib, the Uzumaki tapestry hung behind it proudly on the wall. An infant wailed loudly, horribly, desperately.

I approached the sound, padding towards it on four paws. I ignored my oddity, encompassed in this vision and mystery. Color was difficult for me to discern, but I could make out that the infant was blonde, and was in just a diaper, unswaddled and flailing about on the firm mattress. I sniffed, my wet nose reaching the bars of the crib, catching the baby's attention. The crying ceased, and my heart almost did as well when the most familiar, beautiful blue eyes gazed at me. _Naruto_.

There's a loud bang behind me. My tail is set straight, my joints stiffen. "What are you doing in here?"

"Sarada!" That voice is in my ear again, piercing the veil of the hallucination. " _Sarada_!"

Boruto's arms are around me, and he's shaking me vigorously. I come to and vomit on the floor, falling to my hands when he releases me.

My eyes sting like salt in a wound. _What is happening to me?_


	3. Three

So, I was safe.

Shikamaru promised not to mention anything about Boruto and I exploring the attic, or about anything else he saw. He had been notified by Himawari, hysterically crying that she believed we were in danger in the attic after hearing Boruto call for me repeatedly. We cleaned up the mess I made, and returned to the party; our attitudes were solemn, but we had to play it off and celebrate and pretend nothing had happened.

But something _did_ happen. I caught uncertain glances from Boruto throughout the evening. He may have let it go for now, but when Boruto wanted to get to the bottom of something, it was imperative he did.

I wish I knew what it was, myself.

I left the party early that night, still feeling a bit lightheaded and uneasy. Shortly after leaving, I notice that Shikaden's father is following me down the street, jogging hastily to meet my pace.

"Sarada," He calls, catching up easily. "Sarada, are you sure you're feeling okay? If I'm not to mention what happened to anyone, I just want to make sure you have this situation under control yourself. Is there any way I can convince you to talk to Sakura about this?"

"It's fine, but thank you for your concern. I'm just coming down with a bit of the flu; I'm sure I'll be fine in the morning after a good sleep."

"Sure, alright," Shikamaru eyes me carefully, and then starts fishing in his pocket. "Oh, I forgot. I found this after you got up to go downstairs. I believe you dropped it." He places it in my hand; a small, thick banded golden ring. I don't believe I've seen it before, but I pocket it anyways to end the conversation so I could just go home. I thank him, he returns to the party, and I arrive home in minutes.

Walking up the stairs to my room, I notice three photos side by side mounted on the wall; my father, myself, and my mother at the same age, photos taken at our Genin graduation. I stop and stare for a while, and take my father's photo off the wall and head upstairs with it. Tears start spilling down my face as I collapse into bed.

I wish my dad was here. I know my dad would know what to do, and what to say to me. He seems wise, strong. Mom worries too much, and I don't care to confess much to her; but I feel with dad, things would be different. Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to stay away for so long? Why can't life be like how it is with the Uzumaki's? Why didn't mom just marry _him_?

Thoughts swirl around in my head as my heart pours into my pillow. Before I the pain lasts too long, I am asleep.

* * *

I am a squirrel, and I wake up beside a camera, near a tree stump. It is midday.

 _My God, this again?_

I have the urge to climb a tree. My movements are jerky and quick. I feel incredibly antsy. It feels good to be quick. The quicker I am, the better I feel.

I'm just going to make the best of this, I think to myself. I feel the wind against my fur as I jump from tree to tree, little hands clinging to the smallest of branches that are able to support me. I dive from the top of one tree and confidently cling to another at the last second before reaching the ground. Alive, alive!

A sound ahead breaks my concentration, and I freeze still. Instincts cause anxieties to flood in like rushing waves. My head, within seconds, is pounding with all sorts of melodramatic thoughts I have to push past to reveal the actual cause of the noise.

It's a boy, wearing black and white, training ahead in the middle of the forest. He is breaking sticks, even making dents on a tree, merely using Ninjutsu. I sneak closer to watch, intrigued, although my squirrely psyche warns me furiously not to.

I leap to the ground and hop along the grass, noting his moves and his smooth actions. He's skilled and young; probably around my age. I lay low to the ground and creep closer, not to create a target for him atop any branches or trees with the kunai he has readily at his thigh.

He turns swiftly, his head swiveling directly towards me and spots me. My tail straightens with fear. His eyes, those eyes, are red and black and spinning. I know instantly that it is the Sharingan. I know instantly, that this boy is my father.

My heart is pounding so hard inside this small chest, I feel as it may burst. His gaze does not waiver. My joints and limbs remain unmoved. He is starting to move towards me. I'm realizing quickly, if I don't get away, things could be dire if he reaches me. Heat swarms to all extremities as I bolt up a tree and basically fly atop the tree tops, leaping to and fro to escape. A trail of leaves are shaken to the ground amidst the gale that my haste produced.

Luckily, he isn't following me.

"Sarada, wake up! You're going to be late!"

I sit up and gasp a breath of air. My heart is palpitating from the rush of the chase. I realize it was just a dream, and I was home in bed. My night's sleep was hardly restful.

Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Today, I have class with Boruto and Mitsuki.

I'm not sure if I will be able to have the patience to deal with their nonsense today.

* * *

"So, you know most Clans have their own unique abilities; some of them possessing a Kekkei Genkai," Konohamaru mentions, sitting down on a tree stump while gobbling a sandwich.

Mitsuki is eager to please. "Yes! Like Sarada, the Uchihas possess the Sharingan, and Boruto is lucky enough to have traits from the Hyuga's Byakugan and the Uzumaki's-"

"This," Boruto clasps his hands together in a formation, and a cloud of smoke surrounds him, separating to reveal a tall, thin, busty nude woman with sleek blonde hair, just long enough to cover her nipples. Konohamaru chokes on his food and wipes a small streak of blood from his nose.

I feel my face redden as I clench my fist, and give Boruto a good punch in the tit. His jutsu vanishes and he is on the ground, writhing in pain. Mituski is on the ground too, clutching his stomach laughing. I'm surrounded by perverts and idiots.

We speak more about Kekkei Genkai, although Mitsuki is rather quiet when he's questioned about his own. He weirds me out, and I have my own suspicions about him; he and I were never very close though, and Boruto is a descent judge of character and the two of them share a fair bond, so maybe it's just my attitude.

Our team heads into the woods. We are to search for three different types of medicinal flora, and bring them back to Konohamaru, undoubtedly while he naps. This is an easy task for Mitsuki and I, who both achieved A+ grades in the medical nin section of school; Boruto, not so much.

The two are goofing off together amongst the trees, and I am enjoying the time to myself. I'm also relieved Boruto hadn't mentioned anything from the night prior. If I'm lucky, maybe he will let it pass. If I'm lucky…

My feet stop before my brain can tell them to, and I notice quickly I am being watched by a set of eyes, unfamiliar. Before I leap to the trees to disguise myself in the leaves, I swivel to see a cloaked man, with a presence I couldn't detect, yet a presence so strong I could feel it emanate from him. Our eyes lock, and no words had to be said.

 _My father._


	4. Four

I noticed the sky, which had been rather dreary all day, clouded over with thick gray clouds, and raindrops began to pelt the treetops above. Bulbous drops streamed my glasses, though I can't move my arm even to wipe them clean; shock has rendered me immobile, secure, fixed in place.

Thunder shudders. I can hear my pulse in my ear drums. He's staring at me, but he's not speaking. I'm wondering if this is some sort of mirage… Why is he so serious? Does he recognize me? Is he angry? Is this how he always is?

"F-father," I'm able to stammer out lightly. He positions his hand defensively. I'm a bit wary now.

"We don't have time to speak," His voice is deep, smooth but tough. He moves suddenly, too fast for my eyes to follow.

I step rearward, the large tree behind me protecting my back. Is he warning me, or is he threatening me? I don't know him well enough to presume either. Am I to follow him? Or wait?

From my peripherals, I see a sword flying at me from the upper right. I flip out of the way and draw the small knife I carry at my thigh. The sword is in the grass about 2 inches deep, and I notice the colors of the handle are Uchiha colors; it's clear to me now that he wasn't exactly warning me, except about himself.

A chain yanks up the sword before I grab it. My nose wrinkles in frustration as I wipe the rain from my glasses. After so many years, he returns, and greets me with combat?! I feel red hot emotions bubbling up inside of me. The sword is thrown again in my direction, but instead of dodging, I cuff it away with my knife, full force. The chain buckles, and then falls limp once the sword hit a tree. The sword's metal had fissured from impact. I notice my knife is chipped too, so I toss it at the tree and stand resiliently.

"Why are you doing this?" I call out, though despite my strong stance, my voice cracks with emotion. My fists are clenched at my sides so hard, my knuckles are white.

I notice my father's chakra just ahead of me. I clasp my hands together and create three shadow clones; this ought to impress him.

Naruto had taught me the jutsu one evening, after I vented to him that I couldn't sneak out like I had planned to, because mother doted on me far too much to be remotely normal. I don't know why I confessed that to him, but I felt he would understand. Naruto laughed, and said that my mom could tell a person apart from a clone any day, except for shadow clones. I had read about them, but since the art of shadow clones were generally frowned upon, I had no way to learn it… But Naruto offered, as long as I swore not to teach it to Boruto. I didn't tell a soul. It took months to master, but I practiced in solace every day. He understood so many of my plights with mom. I could tell, from the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes when he talked about her, that he knew her well and cared deeply for her, despite the beatings she often gave him.

The shadow clones and I split up. I knew that my father would have no way of telling the three of us apart, for the fact that no optic specialty could discern a user from a well-formed shadow clone. My father wouldn't hurt any of them, as he couldn't anticipate which clone was really me. Surely, one of us Saradas would eventually spot my group or my sensei – unless they headed home with the first sight of rain.

A dark cloud births several colossal bolts of blue lightning from the sky towards the ground, creating a massive sound burst of thunder through the air. The ground trembles as if a small earthquake has occurred once the lightning reaches the ground; an explosion of soil and branches and fire shooting up from below. Myself and one other shadow clone jump just narrowly on either side. I turn the opposite way just in time see a stray lightning rod penetrate through the abdomen of the third.

The third Sarada screams a blood curdling shriek as the lightning rips through her, tearing the insides out with a swift, fiery explosion of blood and entrails that quickly disappeared in smoke. The clone was finished.

I hit the top of a thick, exposed branch and went to balance myself on my knees before vomiting profusely below. I cup my hand to my mouth, my body shivering with jumpy nerves, as I set my eyes upon my father, feet away, his arm extended as if he were controlling the storm. He had done this; he ended my clone without any discernable proof that it was me or not.

My guard was down, my stress levels up. I lost control of my other clone, and she went off, but was quickly destroyed by another strike of lightning. At this point, my reaction had made it obvious which Sarada was fake. With horror in my eyes, I leap for the ground and make a run for it.

He ran behind me, his speed far superior than mine. The storm above began to subside as he lost interest with controlling it any longer. I had no weapons left on me to disable him, except for the shuriken I had stolen from his desk... It was the only piece I had of him that was tangible; however after this fight, it meant nothing to me. Blindly, I toss it towards him as I ran, without noticing that it made connection. He was no longer following me! I turned my head for a second to check visually to see if it were true, before I collided with a warm, solid being.

"Na, Na-Naruto-sama," I can hardly make out the words to utter as I peer up at him, thankful to be in his embrace. There are no other sets of arms in this world I would rather have protecting me at this moment.

"You'll be alright," He assures me softly, and behind me there is a large, bright explosion of chakra and power. The sound was so loud it vibrated to my very core. I wince, trying to see, and I think I can make out Naruto and my father fighting, but I'm not entirely sure. The light fades away, exposing complete destruction of a large area of the woods at its wake, and I feel that everything is over.

* * *

I can't stop crying. I've been crying for who knows how long now.

Naruto returned back to his clone and I from the desolation of the forest, his clothing hardly marred. He smiled at me, and his shadow clone bid farewell and disappeared. That was the moment I became unintelligible and a pile of disgusting, weeping emotion. He invited me to Ichiraku to grab something to eat. He told me that was where he often went when he was upset at my age. His eyes and his smile aid to calm me. I'm entranced by him.

"Why would he do this to me?" My head is down at the table where we sit. My food is cooking; Naruto insisted on ordering me a bowl of noodles. He, himself, was just drinking a large glass of mango juice.

"Sasuke isn't really all that bad of a guy, Sarada," He says, but I interrupt him by slamming my fist down.

"I hate him!"

"Yeah, I can see why. Sasuke has a very strange way of showing emotion," Naruto started again, smiling and shooing away the cook and his daughter, who were peering at us nosily. "I'm not saying that is how he shows affection at all. But Sasuke can be a cold person, and can have cold ways of doing things. He was testing you and your abilities. Sasuke wouldn't fight that strongly with someone in battle who wasn't at that level too. I know it is pretty harsh, but you may want to consider that a sign of respect-"

"Are you kidding?" I spit out, then bite my tongue and stay quiet, as being rude to the Hokage wouldn't get me anywhere.

"He's not that bad of a guy," He repeats again, quietly, in thought. I read his face, sensing that there are things he wants to tell me, but can't. No one can talk about my father, and no one will talk about the past. Why wouldn't anyone do that, unless he _was_ a bad guy?

My food was brought to me during the silence that followed. I ate slowly, enjoying the food but also Naruto's presence.

I decided I didn't care what anyone had to say about my father, even the Hokage. My father hadn't set eyes on me in almost a decade and had nothing to say or do, other than try to "test" me. He had missed many birthdays, events, celebrations. He missed by graduation. He left my mother to a cold, lonely bed for countless nights. I knew no past, and didn't care to know any future of him.

I was half done when Naruto let me know he had to leave. He paid for my food and bid farewell, and told me good luck. We agreed not to tell anyone about my father, especially not my mother.

The walk home, I was shaken, depleted. Mom was at work, the house dark and empty. I went straight to my room, collapsed on my bed and began to cry.

Through hugging my tear soaked pillow, I began to wonder. Why not Naruto? Why couldn't he be my dad? Why _wasn't_ he my dad? Why was I stuck with Sasuke? If only there was a way I could go back, witness things, change things…


	5. Five

"Sarada, are you okay?!"

Mom bursts into my room, startling me. I bolt upright and look to my alarm clock… Which reads 8:03pm. I guess I had fallen asleep after coming home from Ichiraku.

"Yeah," I take my glasses off and rub my eyes wearily. "What's going on?"

"The woods are almost completely destroyed. Konohamaru was looking everywhere for you. He said you were over there with the rest of your team earlier today, but they left once it started raining, and said you didn't go with them," She clasps her hand to her chest and sighs as she slumps onto my bed, next to me. "I was so worried that you were injured. Were you there when it happened?"

"It was no big deal," I slipped my glasses back on and looked away, avoiding her prying eyes. "It was a wicked storm, but I was able to get out okay and came back here."

"Naruto told me that you were with him," Her hand is on my knee now, which sends a shiver up my spine, stiffening my back. It was a gentle gesture, like a spider that was catching me in a web of lies. "That it was his rasengan that took down the trees?"

"Well there was that, too. He was helping me train and we got a big carried away," I smile nervously at her and make eye contact to try to convince her, but her jade eyes penetrate through my soul.

"Sarada, I'm not a fool. This isn't new to me. I saw that storm centered on the woods; I know that is your father's kirin technique."

I'm silent. I have nothing more to say. My eyes fixate on my feet, shuffling on the floor.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

"What exactly happened?"

"I don't know!" I stand up and cover my face with my hands, wiping away hot tears.

Mom exhales deeply and stands up beside me, embracing me. Her warmth and her smell is so comforting. I can't help but fall forward into her body, releasing my emotions. She pets my hair and lets the topic go. "I'm just so glad you're safe, Sarada."

I fell asleep in my mother's bed that night. We watched a movie together, and I pried a bit on her relationship growing up with Naruto. I could tell she was a bit confused on my sudden curiosity.

She said when our Hokage was younger, he was a huge troublemaker and an idiot.

"More so than Boruto?"

"Yeah, way more than Boruto."

He grew up with neither of his parents around. He always wanted to be the Hokage. And he always wore obnoxiously orange clothing.

..

"Were he and Hinata-san always close?"

"Ah, no, actually," Mom put her finger to her chin, thinking back. "Hinata always had deep feelings for Naruto, but he was clueless. They hardly ever spoke until they were adults. Haha, Naruto had this weird crush on me, actually."

"On you?!"

"Yeah, but I wasn't interested. He wasn't my type. Your father had my attention from the first moment I saw him!"

"Okay, okay. But did you ever go on a date with Naruto-sama?"

Her face went red. "We did, but things never worked out. They worked out how they were supposed to, and that's what matters."

"Hmm. Okay."

"I can tell you more about your father and I."

"No, that's fine," I sat back in her bed, content with the answers I had gotten from her. She gave me a strange look, and flipped the movie back on.

..

I knew my mother wouldn't divulge any more juicy details about her past with Naruto. And I don't think Naruto would share that with me, either. I thought more about the strange dreams I had, where I had gone back in time to witness events… But were they dreams? Or were they more? I had to find out.

* * *

She left for work at the hospital early, about 7am. I had a few hours before I had to meet up with my team; ugh. I was _not_ looking forward to that after yesterday's events.

First, I created a simple clone, and practiced my shapeshifting technique to turn the clone into something small… a mouse. The result wasn't perfect. The mouse was a bit lumpy, a bit disturbed looking, but it would do.

Second, try to get my mouse clone into my parents' locked storage room, and have it turn back into a clone and unlock the door. That didn't work; the mouse was too big to fit under the door. In fact, the door was so close to the ground, I couldn't think of anything that _would_ fit. The mouse clone vanished into smoke.

Perhaps I could try to turn a kitchen knife into a key shape that would fit? I doubt that would work, I'm no magician; and besides, mom would probably lose it if she noticed any of her fancy cutlery missing.

I decide to try my hand at shapeshifting again. I figure, if I transform myself temporarily into an insect, I could fit through the keyhole and get inside. The insect of choice was a bee.

I focused my handsigns and my chakra carefully, and in a pouf of smoke, became a bee. Flying was a lot more difficult than I had anticipated, and some of my legs were disproportionate, but it was enough to get me through the keyhole. At least most of the way.

One of my legs were dragging through the keyhole, distracting me enough for me to lose my focus and my chakra to cease providing for the technique any longer. Within seconds I am myself again, successfully in the storage room, minus my pointer finger on one arm which is stuck firmly in the keyhole.

I quickly stifle my scream and tug my arm to get my finger free. I could feel it starting to come loose, and bit my lip through the pain tugging again with more force.

It frees, and I lose my balance backwards into an old bookcase. Books scatter on and around me, large amounts of dust creating something like a smokescreen around me. I cough and sputter and peek at the book titles, but there is nothing interesting. So I put them back and continue snooping.

My fingers trace along my father's desk; strong, sturdy expensive wood. It's a waste for furniture as beautiful as this to be hidden in this desolate room. Inside are more scrolls, none that I can decipher. There is a small drawer that is locked, but it opens with some wiggling and tampering. There is a large, thin scroll inside. Of course I open it.

It's Uchiha genealogy; a giant family tree that went back for generations among generations. The only name I recognize is my father's. He has a brother?! Is he alive, or is he dead? Do I have cousins? Is he cold and harsh like my father? I knew that my grandparents were deceased, but mom had never told me how.

Uchiha Itachi. I run my fingers over the ink ridges and close my eyes, trying to visualize him. Suddenly, I can. It's clear. His hair is dark, like mine, and longer than father's. He has fair skin and pronounced facial features near his cheeks and nose. His face seems solemn like father's, but it forms a smile the longer I stare. He also dawns the metal plate of the Hidden Leaf, but it is has a deep scratch through the middle that looks intentional. Could this mean he was a traitor? Is that why he has never been spoken of?

I snap open my eyes. Directly in front of me is an old wall mirror that echoes my reflection back at me, and I see that my eyes aren't my own; they are that of the sharingan.


	6. Six

I hypothesized quickly what had been going on.

I knew the facts. I had awakened the Sharingan, passed down in the genes of my family. And using the Sharingan, I was able to visualize things and see the past. Almost as if I was in the past, myself.

But was I?

I remember that my body tremored vigorously, shaken by the realization in the dark reflection before me. I had to pretend nothing had happened and freshen up for training with Konohamaru-sensei and my team. I was going to keep this a secret.

But for how long?

Over the next few days, I pondered over the visions I had before, now going over them carefully as well as I could recall; what was similar, what was different.

 _Items_. There were items, each time, I had touched or held that triggered my Sharingan; I debated whether or not these items had some chakra within them that revealed my power. Could it be any old item?

It didn't work with an ordinary pencil, so I suppose not. There was a point towards one of my theories.

An odd thing that was consistent each time was that I was not human when I awoke in my visions: one time, an insect; another time, a dog; a third time as a squirrel. Were these creatures of any relation to the items I possessed?

Over the weeks that followed, I continued to search my parents' spare room. I consider that time snooping spent as training, as whenever I had a question, my Sharingan would help me find an answer.

One time, a crumpled note with running ink drew my attention. I was thrown into a world of the past where I discovered the note was written by the Hokage himself as a young boy, set up to look like a love note from my father to my mother. It didn't bode well from him. I came to, laughing and wiping tears from the creases by my eyes. There were a few instances like this where there were funny, happy memories of my parents, or other Shinobi in the village as youngsters.

I found Ino and my mother were both good friends, but at the same time, enemies who would back stab or one-up each other whenever the opportunity arose. Master Lee had a strange infatuation with my mother. Chocho is much more like her father in her eating habits and personality than I initially thought. So many connections that webbed the generation before me together; it made it so hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that most of them just nodded curtly to each other when passing by on the street, when they had experienced as a collective, such an intimate era.

As I built up my strength with my Sharingan, and my courage, I decided to explore the past of the Uchiha family. I knew, hidden in this room, were objects that would release decades of secrets into the open to expand my mind; however I had the inkling feeling that they were not simple, nor painless. My father's chronicles had to be dark and dangerous in order for him to flee his village and life within it, and for others to dare not to speak a word.

But I felt I was prepared. Probably.

I came across a peculiar weapon; a dagger, though it resembled a sort of fang. I ran my fingers across the sleek, ivory weapon and onto the scaled handle. Delicate, but powerful. There was an ominous feel to it. I knew it was a type of meaningful to my father as it was kept in a small, locked chest in one of his locked drawers. I clutched it to my chest as I quickly fled and locked up my parent's storage room behind me, knowing I had to be extremely cautious and surreptitious with this important key to my father's locked past…

"Oh, Sarada, that you?"

The voice nearby made my heart stop, scaring me half to death. I scrambled to hide the dagger in the back of my pants in time for my mother to poke her head out of the front door, summoning me. She furrowed her brow suspiciously and I felt all color leave my face. I flashed her a smile to change the mood. It worked.

"Hey, just in time. I grabbed some groceries on my way back from my shift; do you mind helping me wash them and put them away? Two sets of hands are faster than one!" She giggled, and I forced a kind of laughter along with her to mask my nerves, and followed her into the house.

We had small talk, while the dagger burned my skin with a sense of urging, and a thrilling sense of curiosity. The novelty of this precious, foreboding item could have driven me insane. When I was finished, I ran upstairs and closed myself into my room, taking a deep breath and wiping sweaty hands on my tunic. My heart started to palpitate as I reached for the dagger, fingers trembling, mind racing…

I hardly put my fingers to it before I felt the Sharingan form; that strange ocular sensation. My field of vision warped until I blinked enough to readjust in the new setting – it was dusk, and I was a little creature in a woodland area.

My ears were highly sensitive to the surroundings. I stepped forward on cautious paws to quickly come to the realization that I was a rabbit. My hind leg tapped incessantly without my control, presumably an instinctual sign of peril ahead. I continued forward to the dominating male voice just feet forward, on the other side of the bushes…

I snuck a glimpse through the bushes at several figures in dark cloaks over near some tall rocks. One slim, pale man with lengthy black hair drabbled on and on continuously, losing the attention of one colleague. The man shed his hood and peered off aimlessly into the woods around me, until his eyes scanned further downward to the bushes.

When our eyes met, I knew instantly.

I backed up to shroud myself in the temporary protection of the leaves. What was my uncle doing there with these other men? What were they doing here? Who are they? Is this why he was never spoken of? Was my father involved too? How did he know I was here?

Beginning to realize this wasn't the best idea, my body subconsciously froze with rigidity. My fear internalized inside manifested into my muscles, paralyzing me. I flattened my ears to my back as footsteps approached. Suddenly, I'm caught with a rope-like squeeze from behind.

"What's this, my little snake has found?" An eerie, quiet voice mused not far away as the tension around me heightened. My hind leg again began to stomp furiously until I was lifted far enough off the ground where I could not reach nature's floor. "A snack already, this early in the evening, my dear?"

"Leave it," Itachi instructed, whipping the familiar dagger towards me, striking the tail end of the snake that was squeezing me.

The serpent hissed and loosened its grip, just barely enough to drop me. I scrambled to my paws and bounded to escape, until a strong grasp seized one of my hind legs. I felt a snap, much like a dry pretzel as he lifted me up and dangled me towards the other Uchiha, only feet away. The pain was real, radiating throughout my entire body; strong, concurrent waves flooded my body until I felt my extremities numb with shock. I stared helplessly, almost lifelessly, at my uncle before me. His gaze was intense, as if he knew I was more than just an animal.

"You like bunnies, Itachi?" He teased. Itachi smiled crookedly.

"I just don't think it is wise to eat before a mission."

"Ah, what a treat. You Uchihas don't generally care for anything other than yourselves," He held me up close to his face; I could feel his breath on my fur, his tongue running across my neck, resting to feel my pulse which beat so rapidly, I felt would stop at any moment.

This was bad, I shouldn't have come here.

What was going to happen to me, if I died in the past as this rabbit? Was this all merely a genjutsu created by my Sharingan? Would I wake up fine in my bed? Would my true body simply die without cause?

My eyes rolled back as the numbing decreased and the pain intensified. I couldn't help but let out a scream.

"Sarada? Sarada!" There was a light slap across my face. My face contorted from the intense sensation radiating from my leg, and I gripped onto the arm of the person clutching me.


	7. Seven

She is truly my daughter.

When there is information to be sought, nothing will stop her from finding what she seeks.

Staring at her, unconscious, her leg in a lift constraining her to the hospital bed; when I look at her, I see Sasuke when he was young; dark eyes closed, at peace, but brows furrowed. Something troubles them both, underneath…but I also see such strength, such courage, and such beauty at what our union had produced (despite her current condition).

Although I am frustrated with her, I smile. She's sure to surpass us both.

Sarada stirs in her sleep, and I grasp her hand to comfort her. Her stirring stops with a light sigh.

* * *

I think back on the day Sarada was born. Though we were married, and our child was to be born any time now, Sasuke had yet to settle down in the ways the rest of our friends had after marriage.

When I mentioned to Karin that I planned to leave with Sasuke on his mission, she slammed her fist down in protest and declared that she would not let me leave, unless she were to travel with me. So, she did, to the displeasure of both herself and Sasuke.

"It would have been best for you to stay home," Sasuke croons to me, but I hold his hand tight as we step through the woods. Karin is behind us, her arms folded and her grimace unwavering.

"We are one, united together now. Where you go, I go."

I heard an audible groan hidden when Karin cleared her throat.

It is not long into the day when I felt the surge – our child had decided that today, they would transcend downward from my body into this world. Karin was adamant we returned to the village. Sasuke agreed, and demanded that Karin take me back at once.

I remember the fire in my heart, and the strength that drove me to fight to stay. I know Karin saw it in my eyes, too, as she took my firm 'no' quite seriously. We made it to one of Orochimaru's hideouts when I could feel the child coming, coming closer…

Although I begged, Sasuke didn't stay with us. He returned, however, to check in just after her arrival. I gazed upon him with clouded, teary eyes as he entered the room, bringing in an overwhelming amount of love with him. He knelt down and approached us; me, and his newborn daughter, wrapped in fabric scraps, clung tight to my bare chest.

For the first time, I saw a light in his eyes I hadn't seen before. A smile drew across his pale face as he examined her carefully, noting every single detail. Sasuke drew his index finger to her forehead lovingly, and she reached for his finger, her hand so tiny it hardly was able to wrap entirely around. She held his finger tight and sighed, satisfied. I couldn't help but bury my head into his shoulder and sob.

I cried both happy and sad tears. I knew that very moment, Sasuke had fallen in love. She would be his one and only, his world, his backbone, his reason to continue on… but in order to continue on, I also knew, by that poke on her forehead, that he would not be present.

I hoped, in the days and weeks and months that followed, that he would stay. He was home, and he was with us, but I could see in his eyes that he was truly elsewhere. Before she had her first birthday, he was gone.

"Where could be more important than home, with his wife and child?" Karin was bitter, and involved herself into our daughter's life almost immediately. I remember the time she took me by the hand and tried to convince me to end our marriage and go elsewhere. I was 'too strong' for someone who left, without a timeline of when he would return. She said that some of the others in the village talked about how it was pathetic of me to wait for him, when Sasuke clearly didn't hold us high in the importance of his heart.

I had nothing to say to her and to the others, though. They don't know Sasuke like I do.

They don't know the change in his heart that happened the day Sarada was born. He had named her, and he loved her; truly, more than anything else, even himself - that was why he felt he needed to stay away. I had not lived through what he lived through, or had to experience the things he experienced.

 _I was not going to be the one to tell him how to love his daughter the way he felt he needed to._

I knew that she had become his world that day; his entire existence; that he would carry her with him wherever he went, as Itachi did him when he was younger. He looked into her dark Uchiha eyes and saw him, felt him. He poked her head at minutes old in silent promise, as he did me the day he confessed his love, amongst other times. He would go, but I would feel him with me even in his absence.

I was fortunate enough to live in a close-knit family. It was just my parents and I. My mother was also a strong woman and easily modeled the job and what needed to be done. I was confident enough to rear her on my own, and to always remind her of her father's presence in her heart. I could tell over time, as she grew, that she was beginning to reject that testimony.

I knew when she gave up on him. I knew when she began searching for answers. She doesn't give me enough credit. I went along with her lies, and the thing she's meticulously hidden, but I've always known.

Why would I have been so careless to leave her father's room of prized possessions unlocked?


End file.
